You
may all be wondering what the hell happened to me and where did I disappear? No?
At least some of you, I hope! Well, if you are flummoxed and are thinking what
the hell is he talking about… then never mind… I will fill you in either ways!
About 3 months ago, I had stopped writing! Why? I wish there is an easy answer
to it. Well… I wish there there is even an answer to it!
Has
this ever happened to you? You have a favorite pen which you are mighty fond
of.Not a day goes by for you without writing something with it; no matter how
poetic or meaningless it is that you write. But then one day you stop writing
and leave the pen alone. You no longer feel like opening your heart to it and
sharing your life with it. You ingore it and soon enough you are caught in a
quagmire of your own worries and issues that you forget its existence. But
then, as all good things that come to an end do, they haunt you! They remind
you of what you had once which has ceased to be yours now and suddenly fill
your heart with a desperate longing to revert time and go back to them once
more. In a mad rush, you run with complete abandon! There it is... where you
left it ages ago. Your pulse is high and your heart is racing. You feel it...
caress it... a momentary bliss! But wait a minute... something is wrong! The
pen is not reciprocating. It is so cold. You can’t feel its pulse. Its ink has
dried up. It can’t feel your blood any more. You had left it to die!
This
pen could be anything. A thought, an idea, a friend, a hobby, a passion, a
loved one! It may even be cocaine but that would be something I am not advising
you to go back to! But the point is once you stop something… you will be
startled to see how remarkably fast we move on (well... this wouldn’t apply to
cocaine either)… how quickly the passion dies… but subconsciously there is an
unknown pain and sorrow that keeps haunting you! But you never feel like
rekindling that spark. It is a very difficult space to be and it seems so tough
to come out of that coma. We start getting comfortable in this new normal only
to realize much later that it is not the normal but the ordinary. But in
reality, getting out of this vaccuum is pretty easy; all you need is a tiny
flash spurred by a touch of madness. That is the conundrum of the paradox but
once you realize it, the air around you will feel so fresh and full of life.
The
word “memory” when used in “singular” has a mechanical (even robotic) tone to
it. You immediately think of a storage device, the computer and so on and so
forth. Make it plural, “memories”, everything changes and the word takes on a
completely different meaning. There is a human element and a personal touch
that get ingrained into it. Your mind screens a little movie of all the beautiful
moments that have defined your life and lightened up your time on this earth
and you relive those memories with a faint smile in your heart and a bright
twinkle in your eyes. Strange isn’t it… how these two words are almost the same
but invoke reactions that are light years apart from each other. Now if you are
wondering what I am trying to say here, please don’t strain yourself. I myself
haven’t a clue! I am writing after a while, so consider it “ring rust”!
Before you decide that you have had enough,
let me try to put some clarity to my random thoughts. At the end of the day… every
day… when I look around me… when I look out… when I look in… I see so many
things… a million feelings race through my heart… a
zillion thoughts fill my mind… so
much beauty around… so much pain underneath… I don’t want all of this to just
fade away when the sun sets. I don’t want them to be locked in some never to be
accessed again “memory” either. These are memories I want to experience again
and again, share with all of you, come back to them and laugh and cry and
think. So while my pen is still fresh, I have decided to open myself again to
its magic! My apologies it took so long!
